


that could have gone better

by monstermash



Series: Dragon Age AU's [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, M/M, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 18:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11903415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monstermash/pseuds/monstermash
Summary: In their seventh, and final, year at Hogwarts, Alistair and Atuan decide to put their names in for the Triwizard Tournament.





	that could have gone better

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this part a while ago, so i'll probably come back and rewrite some of this later.

“Alistair! Time to get up.”

Alistair groans from where he lays on his bed and shoves his head under a pillow, trying to block out Atuan and batting away the hand that keeps prodding his side.

“Five more minutes…”

There’s blessed silence for all of 10 seconds before something heavy lands on his back, jolting him awake. He glares over his shoulder at the elf splayed out on his back.

“We’re going to be late if you don’t get up now.”

“Atuan! Get off of –”

“Not if you’re just going to –”

The two begin to shove and grapple at each other, yelling incoherently until they roll off of the bed in a tangle of flailing limbs. Their wrestling continues as they roll around the floor and they only stop when they hear Leliana laughing from the doorway.

“Well, aren’t you two lively this morning,” she says with a wry grin.

Atuan groans in exasperation from beneath Alistair.

“Leliana, you’re not even a Hufflepuff, how did you even get in here?”

“I have my ways. Now, if you two are done ravishing each other-”

Brightly flushed faces and loud indignant squawks of “We are not _‘ravishing’_ each other!” and “I’m not that easy! I need at least a decent dinner first and stinky cheese does not count!” interrupt her but she continues anyway.

“-we really should get to the Great Hall for breakfast. I hear they’re announcing the Triwizard Tournament today.”

And with that she turns and leaves the two Hufflepuffs, who are silent for mere seconds before they begin to shout in excitement, squishing each other’s cheeks with their hands, about the tournament and begin to scramble to their feet.

“Come on, we have to sign up as soon as we can!”

“Hold up, I still have to put my pants on!”

\---

They rush to the Great Hall, barely making it before morning announcements and nearly knocking over a couple of students from Beauxbatons, taking seats at their house table next to each other. The two of them are practically vibrating with excitement, constantly bumping shoulders and grinning at each other. The other students would be concerned about their behavior, but they have all learned at this point to not really question it.

Soon enough, Headmaster Duncan stands and unveils the Goblet of Fire and the Triwizard Cup and explains the rules and dangers of the tournament.

“To enter, one simply needs to write their name on a piece of paper and place it in the goblet. When the time comes it will choose one champion from each school. Now, let me be clear. If chosen, you stand alone.”

\---

As soon as they were able, they deposited scraps of paper that had _‘Atuan Mahariel’_ and _‘Alistair Theirin’_ into the Goblet of Fire and crossed back over the Age Line.

“How long do you think until it chooses the champions?” Alistair asked Atuan as they made their way over to where their friends sat. The elf shrugged, but looked at him with a small, secretive smile.

“I bet you they’ll be announced at the Hallowe’en Feast.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

“Call it a good feeling.”

Alistair snorts as he knocks their shoulders together.

“Whenever you have a good feeling something goes horribly wrong.”

\---

The Champions were announced at the Hallowe’en Feast, just like Atuan had guessed. Duncan stepped within range of the Goblet of Fire and caught the first name it spit out.

“Celene Valmont of Beauxbatons!”

Loud cheers and congratulations burst up around the Beauxbatons Champion which hushed quickly when the second name arised.

“Sten of Durmstrang!”

A roar of cheering comes from the other Durmstrang students that also quickly quiets when the third and final name is selected.

“Alistair Theirin of Hogwarts!”

The flames of the goblet went out as a deafening wave of cheering engulfed him. He didn’t mind the shouts and cheers ringing in his ears so much though when Atuan threw his arms around him and hugged him tightly.

\---

They aren’t told what the first task is. Alistair worries about it for two weeks, practically climbing the walls in frustration and nerves. He only relaxes when Atuan runs his fingers through his hair and keeps close to his side.

\---

Alistair is pacing back and forth in the Champions Tent, worrying about what the first task could possibly be. He knows it involves rocky terrain from what he was able to glimpse of the arena, but that’s not much to go on. He nearly jumps out of his skin when wild white hair and skin as pale as the moon covered by Alistair’s own red flannel comes into view.

“Sweet Maker! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

Atuan laughs and leans against Alistair's side, grabbing hold of his hand and squeezing once before letting go.

“Just checking up on my favorite Champion. They tell you what you guys are doing?”

“No clue. They just told us to wait in here until they came back, which speak of the devil…”

“Gather round, Champions,” Duncan calls out as he enters the tent and produces a small bag, loosening the draw string to open it. “One at a time you’ll put your hand in the bag and withdraw what your first task will be. Alistair, you first.”

He places his hand in the bag and there’s something… wriggling in it. Something sharp pokes him and he hisses as he withdraws his hand and there’s… a tiny dragon? Alistair hears Atuan inhale sharply next to him.

“That’s a Highland Ravager,” the elf whispers reverently as he carefully takes it from Alistair, letting the tiny thing crawl around his hand and forearm. “One of the most dangerous high dragon breeds, but also the most sociable. It can eat entire herds and incinerate whole towns if left unchecked. They also tend to be more destructive if there are other high dragons for it to show off in front of.”

“Seems a bit small to be dangerous, don’t you think?”

The Durmstrang Champion snorts derisively.

“That is because that is only a miniature version of it,” Sten says before placing his own hand into the bag and retrieving another small scale high dragon.

“Ooh, that one’s a Vinsomer. They tend to prefer coastal habitats and isolation. Caspar Pentaghast was renowned for his slaying of the largest Vinsomer recorded in history.”

“What about this one?” Celene asks as she pulls out her own scaled down dragon.

Atuan looks at it, studies its scale coloration and skull shape.

“This is a Kaltenzahn. Notoriously stubborn and they have such thick scales that it makes it difficult for even the most experienced of dragon hunters to subdue. They also tend to prefer colder climates, so cold magic won’t do much against them.”

“While it’s good to see that you’re excelling in your magical creatures studies, Mr. Mahariel, I must ask that you leave the Champions Tent seeing as how you’re not a Champion,” Duncan says firmly, though he’s got a fond smile on his face.

Atuan’s hand squeezes Alistair’s shoulder as he leans up to whisper “Good luck” in his ear before he ducks out of the tent.

He knows he’s got a goofy look on his face since the other two Champions are looking at him like he’s an idiot.

\---

He honestly doesn’t know how he managed to survive going up against a Highland Ravager to steal a golden egg. Luck maybe? There was probably a lot of luck in there somewhere. That and knowing Atuan was watching made him really not want to fuck it up.

The golden egg is supposed to be a clue to the next task, but how is he supposed to figure it out when every time he opens it, it unleashes loud shrieking sounds? Leliana and Zevran have no clue though they said they’d look into it (Morrigan said she’d help too, but only because she didn’t want the other schools to get ahead of them). Atuan was just as puzzled as them and out of every student at Hogwarts he was the one who was the best versed in magical creatures and beasts.

\---

He did mind it though when the Durmstrang Champion – Sten – kept talking to Atuan and looking at Atuan in a certain way.

“You’re jealous,” Leliana said in a sing song tone of voice as she looked through a book about what creature the shrieks from the golden egg could belong to.

Alistair scowled and threw a balled up piece of paper at her from where they sat underneath a tree in the courtyard.

“I’m not jealous. I just don’t like that he’s trying to get information out of Atuan by being all-”

“By being friendly? Which is kind of the point of hosting the Triwizard Tournament? To foster friendship between the schools?”

“I think his attentions are more than just friendly,” Zevran said from his perch on the branch above the two.

Alistair turned his glare on Zevran, before turning his attention back to Atuan and Sten who were still talking on the other side of the courtyard, before the sound of Zevran’s voice drew his attention once more.

“Ah, so it is not so much jealousy as you are envious.”

“I am not!”

“Are too,” Leliana said. “I just don’t understand why you do not simply tell him how you feel.”

“Oh and you know exactly how I feel?”

“I know that you have a hard time keeping your eyes off of him and that you get this silly smile on your face when you are near him. That and it’s obvious to everyone that you’ve been gone on him since second year.”

Alistair tensed immediately.

“What?”

“Well, obvious to everyone except Atuan I guess, but he –”

“What do you mean I’ve _‘been gone on him’_ since second year?”

Leliana and Zevran were quiet for a moment, just staring at him, before both began talking at once.

“Do you really not know?”

“How thick headed must you be to not even realize your own feelings?”

Alistair just looked helplessly at the both of them and repeated, “What?”

Leliana sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, before looking at him.

“Alistair, you got so upset when Atuan and Morrigan dated for a week during third year.”

“Of course I did! Morrigan is evil and terrible!”

“You two share a bed even though you both have your own!”

“Atuan gets cold easily!”

“You’re always very handsy with each other,” Zevran points out. “You two never get that handsy with anyone else.”

“What? We are not!”

“He wears your shirts and you always get this sappy look on your face when you realize it. Face it already, you’re in love with him,” Leliana says.

He… has no idea what to say to argue that, he really doesn’t. When he really thinks about it, it makes sense. He really did hate it when Atuan and Morrigan were dating (even though it ended up just being an unsuccessful ploy to get that Amell boy jealous) and he really likes curling up with Atuan at night and he likes seeing him wearing his shirts, it always makes something warm and fluttery settle in his stomach.

Alistair groans and buries his face in his hands.

“Leliana, no, what have you done?”

“You mean finally getting you to see the light on your very not platonic feelings for your best friend?”

“Yes,” Alistair admits petulantly after sliding his hands down his face slightly so he can glare at the red head.

“Well good. Now maybe you two can finally do something about it.”

Before he can say anything to that, Atuan finally joins them, smiling as bright and beautiful as the moon at him and Alistair’s mouth goes dry and his palms begin to sweat.

\---

Alistair woke with a hiss when Atuan jolted upright and smacked him in the face by accident. The mattress dipped when Atuan climbed out and began to rummage around for something. Alistair shuffled out of the nest of blankets to see what the elf was doing.

“I think I figured it out,” Atuan whispered excitedly when his face came back into Alistair’s bleary view.

“Figured out what?”

“How to get the clue from the golden egg.”

Alistair sits up, more awake now.

“How?”

“No questions now, just trust me,” he said as he thrust Alistair’s shoes at him. He follows Atuan with a head still filled with the heavy fog of sleep and it wasn’t until they were at their destination that Alistair realized where they were.

“Why are we in the Prefects’ bathroom?”

“Because,” Atuan said as he began to fill the deep tub (well, more of a small swimming pool really), “This is the only place with a bath deep enough to put the golden egg in and listen to it properly.”

When the tub was filled Atuan began to strip down to his boxers and Alistair turned away, face heating up. He let go of the egg when Atuan held out his hands for it and jumped into the tub. Alistair followed him soon after he himself undressed down to his boxers.

Underwater everything looked different, almost ethereal and peaceful. Atuan came into view and held out the egg in front of him and when he held onto it too they both opened it up. Instead of loud piercing shrieks it was the sound of melodious voices singing and soft golden light.

_"Come seek us where our voices sound,_  
_We cannot sing above the ground,_  
_And while you're searching, ponder this;_  
_We've taken what you'll sorely miss,_  
_An hour long you'll have to look,_  
_And recover what we took,_  
_But past an hour — the prospect's black,_  
_Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."_

Once the golden light has faded and the egg closes itself back up they come up for air. Breaking the surface of the water they pull themselves out and onto the edge of the tub.

“Alright, so we know the next task is underwater. For an entire hour. Maker’s breath,” Alistair groans as he splays out on his back on the tiled floor. “I can’t hold my breath for an entire hour, how do they expect us to do this?”

“There’s plenty of ways to breath underwater, but that’s the easy part,” Atuan says as he gets up to grab towels for them.

“Yes, I just have to grow gills, that’s incredibly easy, my brother does it every weekend,” Alistair deadpans before letting out a grunt as a towel hits him in the face.

“There’s plenty of choices; gillyweed, the Bubble-Head charm, hell you could even transfigure if you wanted. The charm is probably your best bet though,” Atuan says, drying off his hair as he crouches down next to Alistair. “What I’d be worried about is what the clue said. _‘We've taken what you'll sorely miss.’_ Something is going to be stolen from you, something important.”

The blond grasps at the old amulet he wears, scared eyes looking at his friend.

“You don’t think… They can’t take this, this all I have left of my mother.”

“I don’t know, they might. Keep it close though.”


End file.
